maskormenacelogs | [Closed]

Edited 2015-09-03 00:56 (UTC)

Hermann ignored him and instead despaired at the line in front of them. He'd fully intended to pay for their food here, given Newton had covered their cab fare, but standing for a relatively long period of time would do his leg no favors, and the last thing either of them needed was for him to pass out from an unadvised combination of pain, lack of nourishment, and rebellious medications.

With something of an aggrieved breath, he tugged on his duffle bag to free up one of Newton's hands for their food and nodded over to an empty table. "Yes, that sounds fine. In the meantime, I'm going to sit and call us a cab, if you don't mind."

Not that he waited to field a protest, and shuffled over to the little table where he immediately set to work on propping open his laptop and scrolling through his phone.

Newt didn't mind, though he rolled his eyes at Hermann and let him take the bag away if only because he was going to need a hand for their drinks. "Whatever you say, dear."

He busied himself looking over the menu, finding his favorites and Hermann's, sorting out how much it was going to cost... Probably would be wise to let Hermann cover the final cab ride. Newt hadn't exactly been conservative with his funds before this weekend and now they were covering some pretty sizable unexpected costs. Without looking back, though he did, just to confirm, he knew Hermann was over there in his element, doing stuff on his laptop and probably being a pain in the ass to the cab company. At least he hadn't passed out yet, which Newt figured was more testament to Hermann's determination than his health.

After what felt like forever (and Newt's stomach happily reminded him how little he had eaten each time someone passed him with a delicious smelling snack), he finally placed his order and came away with a to-go bag with two sandwiches and some carrots, and drink tray with tea for two: Hermann's prepared hot and to his specifications (as best as Newt could approximate) and Newt's over ice, loaded with sugar and doused in milk. He settled in the chair opposite Hermann and placed the bag between them, just next to the laptop.

"So?"

He drafted follow-up messages to the employment agencies they'd visited while he arranged for a cab, but didn't wind up sending any of them by the time Newton made his way over. Hermann glanced up and tucked his phone away, saving the drafts in a separate file with a few key combinations.

"Should be here in a few minutes," he said, powering down the machine. He packed it away and reached for his tea for a taste test. Not the best in the world, but that wasn't Newton's fault. It was at least sweetened to his usual specifications. He nodded, then gave a dubious look at his partner's beverage.

"What is that?" It looked like sacrilege.

Newt pouted. Geez, Hermann. Just because you're partly British doesn't mean you're the god of tea, okay. "Milk tea. Dude, did you never venture outside when we were in Hong Kong? It's super popular in the cafes there. It's just black tea and some milk and sugar... or maybe it's condensed milk, I don't know. Since it's America, maybe it's just milk and sugar. Here." He held out the cup to Hermann, straw practically jabbing him in the nose. "Try it. Cootie free, promise. It's really good."

Meanwhile he riffled through the bag for the carrots, which he pulled out to start snacking on noisily. Maybe he should have bought more food. He was pretty sure he could eat two whole sandwiches.

"What were you working on?" Because Newt was nothing if not nosy.

Hermann flicked the straw away from him, only to have it circle back around through momentum. He gave the beverage another glare and pushed it back toward Newton with the tip of his index finger. For all he wasn't God of tea, it was still a religion he followed, and there was something of a commandment against consuming hellenic concoctions. He'd barely understood the iced coffee pandemic.

"A follow up to our appointments, though I imagine we'll be staying out of De Chima for some time before we make a decision." His own decision was practically made already, but it would wait, and he'd need to account for Newton's as well.

Newt took back his drink, pouting and shrugging, with a mumbled, "More for me." He took a long sip.

Hermann was so on top of everything. Newt was still getting his head around last night and this morning and here was Hermann composing email follow-ups that would shape the rest of their careers here. He neither envied nor understood that detachment, that compartmentalization, though sometimes he wondered if it would be useful to have.

"You've already made a decision, though," he observed, no accusation in his voice. "You're thinking StarkTech." Hermann was predictable and focused and Newt had a feeling Hermann's mind was mostly made up before they even arrived in De Chima. "It's not a bad choice, I mean, if that's really what you want to do. Sure it's enough structure for you? Enough of a challenge?"

Outside, their taxi honked.

Hermann stood, looping his bag over his wrist and grabbing his tea. It was true he'd already been partial to StarkTech before they'd even arrived, coming at once highly recommended and sounding like a technological dream. He took a moment to adjust under the new added weight and made for the curb.

"It would afford us a new scientific opportunity I've hardly considered previously. Something collaborative in nature, and that will most certainly hold my interest for awhile. In addition, I'll be able to look into other developing technologies and perhaps have a small hand in them.. Then perhaps, once we've fulfilled our obligations and Mr. Xanatos' facility is complete, we can return to research."

He hesitated at the door of the cab, glancing over at Newton. "Unless of course, you had other plans."

Newt gathered their food, his tea, and his own bag and followed Hermann out, hurrying his steps to catch up with Hermann's long strides. He might have enjoyed teasing a little, but the intent behind the questions in the cafe had been genuine. Now that they'd met with Stark firsthand, was StarkTech, like the PPDC, really going to satisfy the itch Hermann had to be challenged and the need he had for structure--was it worthy of his abilities--or was it simply the most viable option presented right now?

Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he wanted to hear Hermann's sort-of-question as confirmation that they were still deciding this together, that it wasn't just about what Hermann wanted or would benefit from, but a mutual benefit and compromise (something they were never very good at, but..). Okay, maybe it was mostly Hermann's decision, which Newt guessed he should really be offended by (because letting Hermann call the shots? deferring to Hermann? hell no!), but you know, he felt the decision was made with respect to Newt's interests and abilities and...honestly? They worked better when they could discuss their projects with each other. Hermann knew that. Newt knew that, too.

Still, his expression registered his surprise before transforming into a smile. If he was going for coy, Newt had a terrible poker face. He pretended to consider Hermann's suggestion--the same one he had assumed they would be following since before De Chima and until this morning, the one that Newt had, on some personal level, unspokenly agreed and committed to when he introduced them to Stark at the Open House--as he rounded the back of the taxi, tugged open the door, and grinned over the top of the car at Hermann. "I don't know, Herm. I was really thinking about striking out on my own. Breeding Kaiju, becoming a mad scientist--I hear the pay is crap, but the freedom is awesome."

He shoved his bag in and onto the floor of the cab. "But maybe I could go for StarkTech." He ducked his head and climbed into the taxi.

Hermann blinked, startled into a small smile of his own as Newton ducked into the vehicle. He hooked his cane over his arm and opened the cab door, tea switching hands as he followed suit.

"Import Center," he said, pulling the door closed and adjusting the bag on his lap. It was still disconcerting not to feel the car pull off into the street. He eyed the bag with their food, wishing they had more than a few minutes to eat, and sipped his tea.

"Well then, I suppose I'll tell Mr. Stark the good news.. if perhaps not immediately. I'm sure we'll be forgiven the delay, considering the events last night. A foray into biotechnology should round out our resumes rather nicely and prove suitably engaging."

Hermann might think himself subtle, but Newt noticed that longing look at their bag--god, Hermann, you look like a kicked puppy--and pulled out the carrots, shoving them at him without sparing another glance. Definitely not looking out for you, nope. Just don't want to hear you or your stomach complain.

"'Suitably engaging--' It's gonna be fun, dude. Don't even. We're going to kick ass. And anyway, no rush," Newt stretched out, resting his feet on his own bag and wishing there was just a little more space between his chair and the driver's. He didn't even have that long of legs! "I mean, we'll be an asset wherever we go, so even if he gets impatient (in which case, his loss), we'll find a place."

He looked out the window, watching the trees and buildings rush by. "Frankly, I'm not in a hurry to relocate here. I mean nice city, terrible welcome-wagon. But I guess the probability is high on that happening anywhere there's imPorts, right?" Newt paused, realizing too late that he had definitely inserted his foot in mouth as usual. "Not that this will happen again. They'll catch the guy."

He took the carrots with a puzzled glance, but Newton was determinedly not looking at him. The impressions he was getting certainly weren't flattering, but he chose to take the offering for what it was and hopefully take the edge off his stomach before they made it back to their apartment complex.

Not that it reacted to the implication of another catastrophe with any particular grace. Hermann swallowed, willing himself to the present with the repetitive motions of eating another carrot. He was fine, nothing was happening, the pain in his leg was normal. Breathe, chew, swallow.

"I can say I won't be attending another major event without first learning to teleport, at least."

Now Newt did glance back over, took a deep breath in time with Hermann's and tried to focus on relaxing, slowly and piece by piece, in the same way he would have had it been his own normal un-linked panic attack back home. He wasn't sure if it helped, though it did ease some of the anxiety bleeding in from Hermann's end of the connection.

"You're still including me in that test run, right? I mean, as an observer?" He chewed on the end of his straw. "Because I swear, dude, if you do it without me, I'm not inviting you to my test run, okay." However foolish and childish and hurtful that threat might be and however much it benefited Newt to have Hermann there, he was determined to hold up that threat if Hermann did the teleportation without allowing for Newt to be present. It was an issue of respect. Or something.

He breathed easier for the shift in topic and threw a frown over at Newton.

"There's no reason I'd willingly recant my promise on that." And the threat of Newton not doing the same was rather effective for the thread of anxiety that tugged at him regardless. He wasn't looking forward to that particular experiment, but he just knew that he absolutely needed to be there.

"I'll be working on the equations in earnest over the next week or so. Once I'm finished, I'll be sure to let you know, and you'd best hope you do the same, because I can’t speak for my actions if you don’t."

"Yeah yeah, I know. You'll be very cross at me! Fear not, Herms, I shan't make you cross!" he gave a flippant wave of his hand.

A week or so until Hermann tried to teleport across the room. FUN. It sounded awfully cool, but god, he was just not ready for this. Newt wasn't even sure which of them should go first with their experiment. Ideally, nothing would go wrong and there wouldn't be any issue to doing them days apart, but. He kind of wanted Hermann to go first. Not because he was scared of or unprepared for his own experiment--mostly the opposite: getting Hermann's out of the way would make him feel a lot better. Or worse, depending on how it went. Besides, he could hack off limbs any time. It was just really kind of important that Hermann figure this out before something happened again.

"You're still running your equations by Qubit, right? That's the plan?"

"Yes, of course. I'll formally ask him if he'd be willing to do so in a few days." Once everyone was more likely to have settled somewhat. They should check on him anyway, and he needed to.. apologize for very nearly attacking the man. Maybe he wouldn't be willing to help them any longer, after that- although he'd aided in their escape from the area easily enough..

"And you are not chopping off any limbs, for god's sake." The imagery was almost enough to give him chills, and he was a little grateful he'd only eaten a few carrots so far. He handed them back to Newton as they turned down a street and the Import center came into view. "By the time you reach an entire finger, I should have data enough to calculate your regeneration rate."

He made a mental note to look into obtaining good anaesthetics, provided Newton hadn't already done so.

Newt didn't think Qubit would walk away from their sort-of friendship so easily, but then Newt hadn't had enough friends to really test the theory with and he'd very nearly lost Hermann earlier this morning so ...He was just going to hope Qubit found it in him to forgive and forget and did not chose to enact some sort of retribution by helping Hermann send himself to Antarctica or something.

"I never said limbs!!" he protested, defiant, and shoved the carrots back into the bag with a huff. "But, come on, Hermann! A finger is a great start but it only tells us so much about regeneration times--" Newt held up his pinky in front of Hermann's face. "And there are not enough significant components in fingers, for one, and--" Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking "--sure, it's important to know about general tissue regeneration, and bone, but it says nothing for absolutely crucial organs: eyes and heart and lungs and spine/brain... Or the effect on healing when there are multiple wounds, like do they heal all at once, or at a slowed rate, or in some sort of prioritized order or..." He trailed off and had the decency to look guilty.

"I never said limbs," he repeated, tone hushed.

It was a really, really good thing he hadn't eaten anything substantial. He could feel the clammy onset of nausea and as soon as the car stopped, he was out and scrambling around to the curb. He leaned heavily against a tree and willed himself not to let the buildup of gritty saliva escape along with whatever his stomach could still stand to retch-- his laptop and tea forgotten. After what felt like a short eternity, he swallowed and grimaced as the texture almost made him cough it right back up again.

Hermann breathed and raised his head, glaring hard and pointing a shaking finger at Newton. "You will not be removing or damaging even a kidney for the sake of your experiment." It was like drifting with a Kaiju all over again. Of all the reckless, irresponsible-- "I will know."

He scrambled out to follow, tripping on the strap of his bag in his haste to get out of the car, not even closing the door after himself as he hurried over to help Hermann and try to make amends, try to suppress this queasy feeling in his gut. Newt didn't even make it to Hermann's side before his partner was turning to him, clearly livid, and he froze in the grass a few feet from the tree Hermann was bent double next to.

"So what?" he shouted back, balling his fists at his sides, thoughts of his own hypocrisy lost in the moment. How could Hermann not see this was something that needed to be done? That it didn't matter how sensitive Hermann's stomach was to the idea of self-dissection--or dissection in general--that Newt could see a usefulness and had a curiosity and that something very good could come of self-experimentation, just as something very good came from that Drift! "My body, my rules, dude! Not yours!" He fumed and set his jaw in a way that in retrospect would remind him of Hermann as he jabbed a finger at his partner. "AND ANOTHER THING-- This is science! Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Hermann! The only reason you and I are alive today is because scientists before us took risks: They irradiated themselves and dosed themselves and cut themselves in the name of progress and discovery!"

It hurt in the way a cut slices too deep and severs the nerve endings; temporary pain and confused bleeding, halting his anger in its tracks.

Dr. Lightcap. The fall of Brawler Yukon, the rest of the Jaegers and the pilots that followed. How they could've been better. It was an old wound. Hermann flipped his cane over, hooked the handle behind Newton's knee and yanked it forward in a move meant to deliberately unbalance him.

"How dare you," he spat, standing over him. "You are nothing like them. This isn't a war you're fighting, this is selfish stupidity. Yes, go mutilate yourself in the 'name of science' and just let me pick up your pieces all over again. It's not as if I will feel it, let alone mind."

The cane caught him from behind and Newt toppled forward hard onto his knees in front of Hermann, disbalancing him both bodily and in the argument. Nothing like them. Had he destroyed the last ounces of patience and respect Hermann had for him? Would he never, never be the brilliant and capable labpartner to Hermann ever again?

Newt looked like he might just wring Hermann's neck. If he didn't have a history of arguing it out to the point of exhaustion of the points and standing toe-to-toe with Hermann to do it, he might have left it at that, retreated to keep what little he had. But Newt didn't often know restraint and rarely knew how to settle a point with Hermann without them talking it to death or screaming and retreating to their corners. And if Hermann wasn't retreating, neither was Newt, even if he had to shout up at Hermann from his position at his feet. "It's not like I am not doing this to hurt you! You are such a...prick! You want this to be about dumb Newt and his obsession with Kaiju and dissections and ooo, neat, I heal! then fine! That's what it can be about! But it's not!"

He seethed, breathing heavy and trying to gather his thoughts into something more than you stupid son-of-a-bitch, I hate you; why don't you get what I'm doing, you asshole-ish fuckwad? "...Look, Hermann, you're not being rational, okay? I'm not drilling a hole in my head to chase a high! I'm fighting a different kind of war and I have an ability that could be very useful, IF I can harness it--!"

"Irrational," he fumed, while the word parroted around his mind in a mocking echo. The accusation gave him some pause, but ultimately turned up hollow. He knew precisely where his temper was stemming from and god, his body couldn't take much more of this. Hermann leaned heavily on his cane and stared down at his drift partner, thoroughly unimpressed.

"And what war would that be, Newton? Because from where I'm standing, my anger is looking very justified. Excuse me if I don't take kindly to your foolish, thrill-seeking impulses that are beginning to look like some form of death wish!"

"I am not suicidal! Self-destructive, sure, but--LOOK." He took a deep breath, preparing to argue his case because, really, Hermann was being dumb, emotional, and if he could just get his head out of his ass--! Newt had more than enough experience defending his theses. He knew Hermann would fight him on his logic anyway, always did, but this mattered. Hermann would have to see that. It wasn't a matter of cutting out a kidney just for curiosity's sake. If nothing else, he'd just keep talking. Hermann had to shut up and listen eventually.

"Maybe my solution is inelegant, but it IS rational. I've always thought it was dumb that comics gave these guys regenerative abilities and the BEST thing they could think to use it for? Stopping bullets with their bodies. Now that's an inelegant solution. You have a potentially immortal being and they choose to be a fucking glorified shield! It's a wasted opportunity." His voice got softer, but no less passionate, his hands working to explain and grasp at a scientific process he didn't have in front of him. "If I can regenerate parts of organs, nerves, and I'm sure it is possible I could negate the blood poison... Stem cells have so much possibility, Hermann. By the time the Kaiju attacked, we'd barely scratched the surface. It's a shame I'm not female, because embryonic stem cells would be fantastic, but we'll work with what I have.."

He held up his hand, eager to add one more thought, lest Hermann think he wasn't accounting for misuse. "And before you worry, I'll break the mold after I'm done. I'll delete my data, burn it, whatever satisfies you that it won't fall into the wrong hands. But I'd be a fool and a coward not to TRY."

Hermann experienced a brief moment of absurd relief that Newton wasn't female, if only because of how much worse this could be in pursuit of his research. But the explanation did lend another side to Newton's desire for experimentation, loathe though he was to admit it. He regarded Newton with a searching stare, narrowed eyes seeking out assurance and conviction that he got without even needing to ask.

His frown deepened, jaw tight and cane trembling from the force of his grip. Earnest green eyes stared back. He understood where this was going, the directions Newton wanted to take his research in if he could harness his ability.

It's too late, he almost said in the face of such sincerity, but held it back lest the line of thought betray them both.

Hermann finally broke eye contact, stepping away to allow Newton to pull himself back up. Now that he'd lost the moral high ground to crucial scientific advances, there was little left to argue.

"You are.. going to be very very careful," he conceded at last. "And this is not something you'll be attempting without real medical professionals on hand."

Newt climbed to his feet and stepped back, giving them both some room to breathe in, eyes still on Hermann. The weight of that secret was off his shoulders, and in place of that, the weight of a task Newt considered both one of the more selfish and selfless things he had ever set out to do. He knew Hermann could give him the numbers on the chance of success (conservative numbers, Hermann was overly cautious), but the odds didn't matter. They'd beat the odds, if they had to.

"Of course I'll be careful. Scout's honor." Not that Newt was ever a boy scout, though he had been tempted and could undoubtedly have amassed a lot of badges with little difficulty. Not the point at the moment. He gave a two-finger salute briefly and hoped Hermann saw the sincerity behind the lighthearted gesture. That Hermann was even conceding and consenting to this at all meant more than anything.

"And I guess this means we'll have to start making friends with some doctors! Unless you think Qubit's secretly an MD?" If only they could be so lucky. Newt would have liked the doctor in question to be someone who understood the nature of his request and the goals behind it, without a lot of the 'getting to know you' song and dance, someone he would comfortably confide in (or as comfortably as Newt could, considering he hadn't even taken too many into confidence in all his time at the PPDC, or MIT, or ever, really). Regardless, hopefully the surgeons, anesthesiologists, or whatever (beggars cannot be choosers--even a pediatrician or a veterinarian would be helpful) they found to aide them would be more professional and less frightening than Chilton, because, worryingly, someone else was likely going to have to be trusted to hold the scalpel at least once or twice.

Their taxi honked and Newt finally took his eyes from Hermann and turned to glare death at the driver, swearing under his breath. "For fuck's sake, can't a guy have a moment with his best friend?" He huffed and grumbled and went to gather their belongings.

De Chima Cafe and Maurtia Falls

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